What They See
by Engineered Muse
Summary: When a wizard looks into the eyes of something that has soul, they are given a glimpse at what that being is through a soulgaze. It can never be faked and can never be forgotten. Harry has seen more than a few souls, but what about his own? What do people see when they look behind the eyes of Harry Dresden?


**Author's Musings:**

As a fan of the series I understand why Butcher has yet to reveal what people see in Harry Dresden's soul. It's meant to be unknown and frankly it would be hard to describe in a way that was satisfactory. That doesn't stop me from trying though. This is my take on what people might see when they take a look at what lies behind Dresden's eyes by means of a soulgaze. I likely made it a bit less dark than the tone of the series usually is, but I think it fits nonetheless.

*Spoiler Warning*

I tried to use general terms that people would recognize if they have read the whole series, but wouldn't spoil anything too drastic if they have not. I hope I succeeded and I don't think there are any major spoilers below, but I'm covering my bases by warning about spoilers anyway.

Let me know what could use work or what you really liked. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:**

I do not own anything related to The Dresden Files or anything else that is referenced below in any way, shape, or form. I'm just a fan.

* * *

 **What They See:**

* * *

The wizard in front of me leaned heavily on his rune laden staff. His leather duster was tattered and torn while blood dripped from the wound on his arm. His jeans and black shirt, worn under the duster, were likewise damaged but he didn't seem to notice. Wary, he gazed up at me and I noticed he wasn't meeting my eyes. His face was tired with dark circles under his eyes and stubble across his jaw.

"Dresden," I began, voice shaky, "this wasn't me. They set me up!" The words came out in a rush. He needed to understand, "I really do need your help."

Whatever the wizard had done to that last creature, whose smoldering ruin was halfway through the wall, must have really taken a lot out of him as he only sighed heavily.

"I want to believe you, really. But I've been a patsy too many times before," the voice was low and frustrated.

"There must be a way I can convince you to trust me!" If I couldn't get him to help…. No I couldn't think about that. The wounded man looked down, hesitated and straightened his shoulders. He must have come to a decision.

"There is a way. It's not my first choice but we aren't spoiled for time. I'm sorry for what you might see."

He looked up.

Our eyes met.

Everything changed.

* * *

It was all black. I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. Suddenly in front of me stood a statue of a boy, perfectly carved. He looked to be about twelve years old and was made entirely of plain grey stone. Expressionless, the image stood there, hands at its sides. The detail was exquisite with each individual hair given form and the stone without blemish. The clothes were wrinkled, but whole and around his neck lay a silver pentacle necklace. A necklace I had seen just moments before on Harry Dresden. The statue stood, rigid in an endless moment, then the changes began.

It started slowly.

Hair lengthened and then was suddenly short before it grew again. The clothes shifted on occasion, but never strayed from plain patterns. Almost imperceptibly, the statue grew taller and its face older. Time was passing.

As the growth continued the stone began to wear. Minute scratches, marks, and cracks appeared all over the figure. Through this process the statue seemed to become more real as the small imperfections gave it a sense of depth.

Half formed, translucent figures swirled around the statue. They moved jerkily and at high speeds, faces indistinct. Several times the same figure flitted past. A girl, similarly aged, with golden brown hair. She could be seen clearly and wore an identical amulet to the boy's. As the specters continued to flow around the statue, it continued to grow. The stone statue aged before my eyes as people from his life, for that is who they had to be, flew past.

While he was still young, barely a teenager, a light sprang up and enveloped the statue. A soft aura of white light that hummed with power. The boy continued to age and the light grew stronger before my eyes. The boy's height suddenly shot up in his teenage years and the girl from before, more womanly now, occasionally hovered close and paused from time to time. The stone face, emotionless before, seemed to smile the slightest bit and the light shone with unbound vitality. The smile was not without pain, but it was content, happy even.

Then disaster struck.

With a great resounding crack, the statue was spiderwebbed with fractures and the woman who stayed near was ripped away. For an instant the white light shone a brilliant, fiery red before it retreated and became a muted version of itself. Without visible movement the statue's arm rose and a stone staff appeared, clenched tightly in a cracked hand. The face was no longer smiling, just grimly set and determined.

The changes began to accelerate.

The teenager became a man whose face was familiar. It was one I had just been looking at in the real world. A long coat of the same grey stone covered the now adult statue. New figures whirled by so fast they all became a blur, with one or two standing out once and awhile. Flashes of light occasionally appeared as well, adding to or changing the light still shining from the figure at the center of the constant motion. Nearly obscured by what was happening around it the statue changed its position again. The staff was planted firmly and the man leaned forward as if facing a strong wind. The posture was firm and his mouth was set in a thin line. People, events, places, and more streamed by without end, faster than I could comprehend.

Some figures lashed out as they passed, chipping away at the already damaged statue. The cracks widened and, inexplicably, light began to shine from the cracks themselves.

Other people hugged and comforted the man and areas of the statue became whole again.

Specters that were not people but creatures also flashed by. Some were small and flitted through the air on gossamer wings. Others dwarfed the statue and radiated power. But all interacted with the statue, be it to smash against it or simply reach out a hand.

It was a raging storm of humanity and inhumanity. Of enemies and friends. Of pain and loss. Of hopes and dreams. It was life.

And yet in the midst of the chaos, some of it seemed clear as day and seared itself into my mind.

A balding _wizard_ with white hair, dressed in flannel and overalls, rested his hand on the statue's shoulder and looked both fond and worried. Behind his back the fatherly figure held a staff of blackened wood.

A severe looking _lawman_ in a grey cloak held a sword to the statue's throat for a time.

A petite blonde _warrior_ cradling a compact machine gun grinned up at the statue, elbowed it gently in the stomach and moved to stand at it's back.

An outlandish _beauty_ with slanted green eyes and curling coppery hair strode by. Hounds played around her feet as she beckoned the statue to follow.

A slim _vampire_ in a white silk shirt threw his arm companionably around the statue's shoulders with a silent laugh. He flicked his curly black hair out of his eyes, which gleamed faintly silver.

A black haired _shadow_ of a man with a noose around his neck and a face twisted in rage slammed his fist into the stomach of the statue.

A _mother_ with dark eyes and sharp features wrapped her arms around the statue from behind and touched the amulet on its neck. As she faded a red gem appeared in the center of the stone pentacle.

A _Thing_ made of shadow and terror rose behind the statue. Claws, tentacles, and mouths all reached out to consume.

A grandfatherly _angel_ with wings of light gently touched the statue's temples and there was a flash of silver light.

A curvaceous _lady_ with dreadlocks in all shades of green, blue, and purple strutted up to the statue and whispered in its ear even as she raked her clawed hands across its body.

A _woman_ with black and red tattoos lining half her body kissed the statue before vanishing in a violent blur.

A seductive _temptress_ wreathed in crimson flames curled herself around the statue possessively as the fire spread to the stone.

A _knight_ in armor, holy sword at his hip, hugged the statue before removing his helmet. The bearded man underneath nodded to the statue and stood, unwavering, at its side.

A false _father_ put his hands on the statue's head with an expression that clearly read 'mine!'.

An endless winter storm given a _queenly_ human form fastened a cloak of frost around the statue's neck. An icy smile of triumph graced the being's face.

A well dressed _gangster_ inclined his head and tipped his hat in respect before turning away.

An _apprentice_ with pink and blue hair sat before the statue, a book open upon her lap. She looked up and smiled brightly.

A black _cowled_ cloak stood empty and loomed ominously over the statue with its sleeve outstretched.

A massive walking carpet of a _dog_ shook itself before laying down at the statue's feet.

An earthen _giant_ with emerald eyes stood impassively behind the statue.

A twisted _disease_ covered all and wormed its way into the hearts of many even as the statue sought it desperately.

A small _child_ reached her arms upwards towards the statue with wide, innocent eyes.

And then everything was still.

I staggered backwards, head down, as the rush of images and people faded. I looked back up and _saw_.

A statue of a man stood tall against the world. His face was not handsome, but contained a rugged character. In his hand was a staff covered in runes, brandished against an unknown foe. An unyielding expression of defiance was carved on his face and a long coat billowed open behind him, allowing his pentacle amulet to be easily seen.

The stone of the statue was weathered and everywhere accross it were cracks and fissures. The smallest merely a hairline, the largest over a finger's width across. The damage should have caused the statue to fall apart, but instead bright light could been seen, shining from inside. Through the gaps a thousand stars burned in a dark void. A whirling galaxy was contained within the hollow stone.

This was a man who had been nearly broken by power and pain. Who had nearly lost himself to fate's worse than death. Someone who should have fallen, and yet still persevered. He would not yield and he would not fall. Crimson flames danced at his feet and on his shoulders rested a mantle of frozen power. Upon his brow was a blazing crown of silver fire.

Behind the man stood dozens of figures. Some I recognized from the flashes I had seen before while others were new. Beings of all shapes, sizes, races, and powers gathered to support him. They shared their strength and walked with him, helping him stand when he could not. Intangible bonds connected them all and bound the statue together, preventing it from falling or breaking.

Beneath the statue and his allies lay the results of a thousand impossible battles. The remains of enemies great and small formed a grim reminder of the grand forces arrayed against the man. At the same time it was a monument to his accomplishments. Beings that could rend the heavens, things that no man should ever be able to stand against had fallen at his hands.

It was a man with a grand destiny engaged in a desperate stand against the darkness. He had withstood pain for the sake of others. He had borne a burden far too heavy. And yet still he carried on, often without thanks or reward. He forged his own path towards a brighter future in spite of the hell he walked through.

It was inspiring.

It was terrifying.

I didn't know if I should flee in terror, collapse in awe, beg for help and mercy, or stand very still and hope I went unnoticed.

I fell to my knees.

The man stepped down from his 'throne' of death/power/pain/pleasure/despair/hope and walked towards me. The glowing, broken statue full of stars looked down at me and seemed to take in everything I was. Its face softened just the tiniest bit and it reached out its hand. Even that hand was brimming with power and potential far beyond what any mortal should possess.

It was an offer. There were no words, but its meaning flooded my mind. The statue gave no guarantee of salvation. It made no promises it could not keep. Instead it simply said that it would try. And if that failed, it would try again. And again. And again. Until it ceased to be or it had succeeded.

I looked into the statue's eyes and lost myself within the light.

* * *

I had heard the stories, I just hadn't believed them.

"Wha-what _are_ you," I croaked out as I found myself on the ground. Above me stood the wizard Dresden, hand outstretched to help me stand. Against my better judgement, I took the hand.

"I've heard that before, but I think _who_ I am is more important," He hoisted me to my feet, "and right now," he smiled tightly, "I'm Harry Dresden, the guy who's gonna help you."


End file.
